The Only Thing I'm Missing
by Kaze Kimizu
Summary: This is not a serious fic. It is not a love-love fic, either. This is the product of forcing myself to think up a oneshot while listening to music. This takes place at Wammy's. Matt walks in on Mello in a very...unusual position. What to do?


**Author's Note:** ...Can I start off by saying sorry? I know, it's been a while since I've updated anything. I have no excuses. I've been roleplaying my ass off with my friend Kaoru (RayeWilliams on fanfiction) and our roleplays-gone-fanfic have been/will be uploaded to her account. So. Go check them out. xP Stalk her account. She's a damn good writer. All right. Updates. Game Over has a chapter in progress right now, but the other fics are on temporary hold. Why the temporary hold? My muse has vanished. Completely gone away. If you know where it went, I am offering a reward for its return. xD This oneshot was spawned because I NEEDED to post something. So I made a post in my livejournal (check it out if you'd like, link in my profile) and wrote until I had a oneshot. This is the final product. Enjoy. Onward!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note. Otherwise, I'd have a better muse. I also don't own these song lyrics. The song is (s)AINT by Marilyn Manson. Very good song.

**Warning:** Cussing, Mello humping something. The usual.

* * *

Mello grinned when his song came on the radio. There was no denying it; this song belonged to him. It suited him. Even Matt agreed, and Matt generally hated Mello's music. There was just something about the beat that made him feel alive.

_"You said I tasted famous, so I drew you a heart! But now I'm not an artist; I'm a fucking work of art!"_

He swished his hair around his head, keeping rhythm with the lyrics as he typed the finishing touches on his History report.

_"I got an F and a C and I've got a K, too. And the only thing that's missing is a bitch like U!"_

He laughed loudly in the empty room, shoving his laptop off his lap.

_"What's my name? What's my name? Hold the S because I am an AINT! "_

He grabbed onto the bars of his bunk bed, dangling dangerously over the electronics situated on Matt's bottom bunk. He curled his legs around the top bunk's bars, dipping his head low enough to brush across the laptop's cover.

_"What's my name? What's my name? Hold the S because I am an AINT!"_

He laughed out loud, a dangerous glint sparkling in his sapphire eyes. He pulled himself back up to his bunk, stomach muscles already burning, before he leapt down the ladder to the floor.

_"You wanted perfect? You got your perfect! Now I'm too perfect for someone like you!" _

He slid across the wooden floor in socked feet with sweat pants sagging dangerously low on his hips. He grabbed the floor lamp, twisting around it suggestively before bending backward so low that his hair brushed the floor.

This was his zone. He closed his eyes and pictured himself in the future, dressed in tight-fitting leather or hip-hugging pants, shimmying across a dance floor in an underground club. In his dream world, he could feel the girls staring at him. He could feel their eyes absorbing every inch of his skin. He pictured someone else, someone sexy, dancing with him.

_"I've got an F and a C and I got a K, too. And the only thing that's missing is a bitch like U!"_

Dream Mello ground up against his dance partner, eyes glinting devilishly in the haze of flashing neon lights. His hand grabbed hold of his partner's hip, guiding the body back against his own.

_"What's my name? What's my name? Hold the S because I am an AINT!"_

"Mello, what the HELL are you doing to the lamp?"

Mello's eyes shot open. His head snapped toward the source of the voice.

"Uh..."

"Mel. You're humping a floor lamp. Is there something you need to tell me, buddy?"

Mello immediately blushed a deep crimson, leaping away from the lamp as though it had caught fire. He pulled his sweatpants up, wishing that he had grabbed a shirt earlier. He suddenly felt very exposed in front of his redheaded roommate.

"Shut up, Matt," he spat, eyes averted. "I was just dancing! My song came on."

"So, you decided to hump a floor lamp? All right. That's cool. More power to you, Mello," Matt shook his head, sliding onto his bed. He booted up one of the laptops, laughing softly. "You'd better hope that Roger never catches you listening to that music. You know how he is about swearing in songs. And if he walked in on you...uh, 'dancing,' with your little girlfriend there...I'm sure he'd be pretty pissed. It'd be one hell of an awkward explanation, at least."

"Shut the hell up, Matt!" Mello pouted, crossing his arms across his bare chest. "Your music isn't exactly pure, you know! _I wish that you were my lollipop. Sweet things, I will never get enough. _Does that sound familiar? Yeah, Matt. I'm sure Roger would approve of some chick licking you like a lollipop. That's such an appropriate song."

"Well at least it doesn't have cuss words, fuckin' moron! Roger gets angrier about cussing than suggestive material! You know that, Mello."

"Oh yeah?" Mello huffed, "Well...we'll just tell Roger what each of us has been listening to! And he can settle this once and for all!"

"That is the dumbest idea you've had all day, Mel," Matt sighed, shoving his laptop off his lap. "We both know that he'd think yours was worse."

"Oh yeah? Don't even get me STARTED on your Manga Maniac song. Roger would shit himself if he knew you were listening to dirty songs about some old guy wanking to anime porn."

"Hey! It's manga, thank you very much, and it's not like I run around the room humping floor lamps because of it! You know what? Fine. Let's let Roger decide this one," Matt growled, sliding off the bed.

"Fine!" Mello yelled, grabbing Matt's hand. He dragged the redhead down the halls, screaming Roger's name at the top of his lungs.

"ROGER! WE HAVE A DEBATE THAT YOU NEED TO SETTLE! WHERE ARE YOU, SENILE OLD COOT?"

The boys finally found Mr. Ruvie in his office, hiding among stacks of papers and half-empty glasses of stale vodka. The old man's face turned sour as soon as the two stepped past the door.

"Oh, dear. What is it this time? Mello? Matt?" Roger's tired, slightly irritated voice grated against the boys' ears.

"We have a debate, Roger," Mello began, "And we would appreciate it if you would solve it."

"Oh? What exactly is this debate about, sir?"

"Roger, you hate cussing more than porn songs, right? 'Cause Mello was singing along to the radio and the song had cusswords and he was humping the lamp, but I was only listening to mildly suggestive songs with minor sexual innuendos! You're madder at him, right? Right?" Matt blurted out, making Mello's eyes grow wide.

"Don't listen to him, Roger! There was only a teeny tiny little bit of cussing in my song, but his are FULL of nasty suggestions! He wants the girl in his song to lick him like a lollipop!"

"NO I DON'T!" Matt screeched, whirling on Mello. "Take that back!"

"It's true!" Mello yelled, slapping at Matt's goggled face. "Roger, tell him that you hate his music more!"

"Liar! Roger, tell him that you hate HIS kind of music more!" Matt shoved Mello into the desk, toppling a large stack of papers.

"That is **enough**, sirs! Settle yourselves at once! At **once**, boys!" Roger stood abruptly, walking around his desk to grab each boy by the shirt collar. "Let me make my opinion of BOTH styles of music perfectly clear!"

* * *

Little over an hour later, a very somber Matt and a terribly melancholy Mello shuffled back into their room.

"Ow. Matt, I'm blaming you for this one," Mello said, pouting bitterly.

"Yeah, well, it was your idea to tell him in the first place," Matt groaned, flopping face down onto his bed. "And you hit me first. Don't forget that."

"Yeah. We never did get a straight answer, though." Mello glanced mournfully at the desk where his radio used to sit. "I can't believe he took our radio. And our CD players."

"No kidding. He even uninstalled the media player on my laptop," Matt grumbled. "And deleted ALL the music that I downloaded illegally. Seriously, Mel. Who the hell puts kids our age in time out?"

"Well, he had to come steal our stuff somehow," Mello reasoned, frowning. "Perfect excuse. Though I still think it wasn't fair that I had to stand next to the open door, and you got to hide in the back corner."

"It's 'cause my music wasn't as bad as yours," Matt grinned. "Duh."

"Oh, bullshit. Hey, I'm sleeping on your bed tonight, so scoot over."

"What? Why?" Matt frowned, sliding over.

"I don't feel like climbing up to my bed. I just want to go to sleep."

"Ah. Fine." Matt closed his eyes as Mello carefully lowered himself onto Matt's bed. They lay in silence for a few minutes, listening to the whirr of Matt's laptop as it powered down into sleep mode.

"Matt?" Mello asked, turning toward the redhead.

"What?"

Mello grinned. "At least he didn't take the lamp."

"Go to sleep, Mel," Matt snorted, rolling his eyes. "I'm blaming this mess on you."

"Hey Matty?" Mello laughed, eyes sparkling mischievously, "_I've got an F and a C and I've got a K, too. And the only thing I'm missing is..._"

"_A bitch like U._ Go to sleep before I kill you, Mello."


End file.
